But then—anger. It came crashing in like an avalanche. Anger at whoever hit her with that puck. The kind of hot, irrational anger I didn’t even know I was capable of. I don’t care how it sounds, but if I had been there, if that person had been standing in front of me... I would’ve punched them in the face. No question.
Ben: Who hit you with a puck?
Liz: I don’t know, it was an accident.
Ben: What the hell? Aren’t there like penalties for that or something?
Liz: Not really. I was standing between some guy and the net. He took a shot. It hit me. Not really a big deal, I just got unlucky.
Ben: Are you okay?
Liz: Yes. They’re letting me go home today with painkillers and a sling to keep me from moving too much. I just have to give it time to heal.
Ben: Are you sure you’re okay?
Liz: Absolutely!
She managed to calm me down, eventually. But that anger? It was real. And it wasn’t just protectiveness. No, it was deeper than that. I wasn’t just angry at someone for hurting her. I was furious because I wanted to avenge her. I wanted to be the one to step in, to fight on her behalf. It was like this primal, protective instinct that I couldn’t shut down.
And the strangest part? I’d never reacted like that to anyone else before. Not family, not mates, not any of the girls I’d dated. It was new. It was raw.
And that’s when it hit me.
It was love.
I needed her safe, yes, but more than that—I needed her to be mine.
It scared the hell out of me. I’d built a life around never needing anyone that badly.
Chapter 6
Liz, February 24
I’m in the middle of planning out my lessons for next week, multiple resources scattered across the desk in front of me, when my Skype notification signals a call. I answer it, and handsome, grinning Ben fills my screen. He’s lounging at his computer desk, his chair tilted precariously onto two legs. The teacher in me wants to tell him to sit flat before he falls, but I bite my tongue and resist.
Over his blue-shirted shoulder, I spot the bedspread pulled haphazardly over his sheets—his attempt at making things look presentable. His door is pulled shut. I take in his face as I smile. Ben’s eyes are positively flashing. He’s either about to share some exciting news, or he’s feeling randy.
“Hi beautiful,” Ben practically purrs. “What are you up to?”
Randy it is.
“Hi Ben.” I shut the book nearest to me, check my appearance quickly in the smaller window, and turn up my smile. “Just lesson planning, nothing you can’t drag me away from.”
“Good.” That naughty flare in his green eyes confirms it.
“Ben, are you feeling playful?” I tease.
“Playful?” His eyebrows fly up. “How could I feel anything else with you looking like that?”
I glance down at my outfit. He can see the green tank top I’m wearing, though the tight, bun-hugging jeans are lost offscreen. The top dips a little low, but not enough to give him much from his vantage point.
“Whatever do you mean?” I feign innocence, but use my elbows to push my breasts together. Cleavage rises to the top of the collar, giving him a better view.
I’m rewarded with a strangled sound from Ben.
“You drive me crazy,” he growls. Ben makes crazy sound like a pleasant trip.
“Good.” I smile, though I doubt he’s looking at my face just now.
